


Put into Practice

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [36]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “So hey,” Jared says, when they’re done, because he doesn’t want Bryce to choke on a tomato or something. “I bought lube.”Turns out Bryce doesn’t even need something in his mouth to visibly choke.





	Put into Practice

Ever since Bryce kind of opened the Pandora’s box of sex, Jared honestly can’t stop thinking about it.

It’s not like he was unhappy with like, handjobs or blowjobs — how could he be, with how fucking awesome at them Bryce is — but he just — he always thought that whole ‘it’s not sex if someone isn’t penetrating someone else’ thing was bullshit, they’ve definitely been having sex, but there’s something more — he can’t think of the word. Intimate? Like, vulnerable, maybe? 

It’s something he wouldn’t do with someone he didn’t trust, and he does trust Bryce, trusts him not to laugh at him, to be good about it, sweet, probably, like he usually is, to make sure it’s good for Jared. Hopes Bryce trusts him to do the same.

Jared decides to wait on buying lube and condoms — the condoms aren’t needed yet, probably, but there’s no harm in having some — until he’s back on the road, ducking into a Rexall when they have free time. It’s not like there’d be a high chance of running into anyone at home, but it’d be a non-zero chance, and the idea of running into a Hitmen fan or one of his classmates, or, fuck, _teachers_ — not good. They may not be likely scenarios, but just the idea of running into like, god forbid, his fucking grandma with lube and condoms in his hands is enough to make him paranoid.

Medicine Hat is a lot safer than Calgary, so Jared picks them up there, adding a lemonade before he goes to the counter, like that makes them somehow invisible. The woman checking him out is older than his mom, and Jared keeps his head down, cheeks flaming as she rings the items through, even though she doesn’t look that interested, just hands him his change and the bag with a brusque ‘have a nice day’.

The one downside of the whole stealth incognito in a different city thing, though, you know who’s inevitably there? Your teammates. Better than anyone else, at least. It’s not like any of those dudes would be scandalized by some condoms. 

Tristyn’s eating a popsicle outside, even though it’s fucking freezing, lips stained red. “What’s in the bag?” he asks interestedly, so Jared has a feeling his blush is still lingering.

“Condoms,” Jared says, because it’s not like Tristyn, the chronic oversharer, is going to give him shit, and gets a high five in response. 

“You going out tonight or something?” Tristyn asks. “Because if so I’m totally in.”

“Nah, just didn’t want to get them where I could run into anyone I knew,” Jared says.

“Fair,” Tristyn says. “Didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“I don’t,” Jared says, and is much more reluctant to slap the high five Tristyn offers again. He feels skeezy now. He’s definitely not about to lie and say he does or to tell Tristyn he actually has a boyfriend though: Tristyn seems like the kind of guy who’d spread it around, the kind of guy who might request a room change because ew, can’t sleep in the same room as a gay gay, what if he attacks me in my sleep? 

Kind of says a lot that they think as soon as a dude’s gay they’re going to be a creepy fucker about them. Like that they always think they’re way more attractive than they actually are, but also like, that they seem to think it’s normal to be a creepy fucker if you’re into someone. Doesn’t bode well for the girls they like. If any guy like that gets within a ten foot distance of Erin Jared’s going to drive him off before even their dad can.

*

Jared beelines straight for Bryce’s when he gets back into town, doesn’t even bother to drop his shit off at home first. They haven’t really had the privacy to talk any of it through since Jared accidentally got Bryce hard in front of his coach. And by ‘talk it through’ Jared means phone sex, probably, because that’s the sort of head space the thought’s leading him every time. 

Bryce is out, so Jared texts him to let him know he’s there, grabbing a glass of water and heating up some leftovers in the microwave. It’s kind of surprising how comfortable he is here — basically the only other place he doesn’t feel awkward raiding the fridge is his own house, maybe his grandparents’ places. He always felt so awkward going over to other people’s houses, never sure what the etiquette is, but Bryce’s motto is basically ‘treat my place like it’s yours’, and for some reason Jared can.

Bryce comes in while Jared’s stuffing food in his mouth and checking his twitter feed, mouth a little cold when he presses a kiss to Jared’s ear, like he’s been out walking. 

“Are those groceries?” Jared asks incredulously as Bryce heads to the kitchen with bags. “You went out and got _groceries_?”

“I can get groceries,” Bryce says defensively, and Jared gets up to watch, amused, as Bryce unpacks what looks like more of a snack run than actual grocery shopping. How he is the adult here, Jared has no clue.

He grabs one of the pre-made salads Bryce bought, though, because it looks good, and they eat at the table for once, Bryce’s ankle hooked around Jared’s.

“So hey,” Jared says, when they’re done, because he doesn’t want Bryce to choke on a tomato or something. “I bought lube.”

Turns out Bryce doesn’t even need something in his mouth to visibly choke.

“Yeah?” Bryce says, trying this faux-casual voice thing, which totally doesn’t work considering his ears are going red.

“You want, like, that demonstration or something?” Jared asks. Well. Mumbles. It was way easier to say over the phone and flooded with endorphins. He feels kind of stupid, like he’s doing some version of a kid, like, pretending to shave beside their dad. Basically make believe being an adult.

Except Bryce doesn’t seem to think it’s stupid, judging by the very quick, “Uh yeah, let’s — yeah.” At least someone thinks Jared pulled it off. The way he walks to his bedroom like, double time? Also super flattering.

It’s one thing like, stripping when you’re making out, all riled up, but it’s another thing to strip without that coming first. Not that Jared’s like…not riled up, because he kind of constantly has been, on the sort of edge where a stray thought of Bryce’s clever, capable hands is enough to get him stiffening, but self-consciousness is warring pretty hard with horniness right now.

Thankfully he’s not the only one doing it, it’s not like, Jared doing the most awkward strip tease in the history of the world with Bryce fully dressed or anything, it’s just this feels more like — Jared doesn’t know. Planned? Like ‘let’s go to bed’ and not ‘now that we started shit we should probably finish it’.

“The lube?” Bryce asks, which, shit, and heads out of the room totally bare assed to where it’s tucked in Jared’s coat pocket, giving it to Jared when he gets back, and then looking at him all expectantly, like he expects Jared to just go for it.

“Dude,” Jared says, with a laugh that comes out kind of nervous. “I can’t just, like, start cold. It’s kind of awkward.”

“Oh, totally,” Bryce says, looking kind of embarrassed. “Did you wanna—”

“Let’s just like, make out a bit?” Jared asks. “I dunno, it’s not hot if I’m not already hard, you know?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bryce says, and like, it’s meant to have an end point, all, ‘okay, once I’m hard, we’re good’, but they kind of get carried away — that happens a lot — and Jared’s half thinking they could just, like, jerk each other off, that’d be fine and way less nerve-wracking, when Bryce pulls back, flushed and so fucking hot, and says, “Show me?”, and Jared apparently can’t deny him anything.

“Pass me—” Jared says, and Bryce presses the lube into his hand like, instantly. Jared focuses on that, opening the bottle, slicking his fingers and warming it a bit between them, not able to quite make himself look away from his own hand. He has the sudden urge, ridiculous, to like, tell Bryce not to look, as if that wasn’t the fucking _point_ of this, as if _Jared_ hadn’t been the one offering in the first place.

“You know it’s totally cool if you don’t—” Bryce starts, and Jared hasn’t ever considered himself to be contrary, exactly, but like, he’s a dude of his word, and also, he knows he’s being ridiculous right now, so obviously it is _not_ cool if he doesn’t.

“Can you kiss me?” Jared asks, which he guesses is just a more roundabout way to say ‘don’t look’, and it’s one that Bryce immediately takes him up on. It’s easier, then, one hand twisting in Bryce’s hair, slightly to anchor himself, but probably, more of less subconsciously — is it subconscious if you’re aware immediately after you do it? — to keep Bryce there, keep him from watching, because if Bryce looks right now Jared’s going to chicken out.

He starts with two fingers, even though he should probably work up to it, and it’s — like, his attention’s kind of split the way it isn’t usually when he does this, between Bryce’s mouth against his, Bryce’s hand stroking down his back, this slow sweep that stops right above his ass, like he’s not sure he’s allowed.

Jared’s breath stutters on the press in, and Bryce’s does too, hand stalling for a second, like he doesn’t even need to see to be affected by it, like he’s getting off on just _knowing_. They’re more sharing breath than just kissing — Jared’s not great at multitasking this, apparently, and when Bryce pulls away, unmistakably looking, Jared can’t quite meet his eyes, but he doesn’t stop, either.

“Can I—” Bryce says. 

“Whatever,” Jared says. “You can do whatever.”

‘Whatever’ in this case is taking over, clearly, considering Bryce reaches for the lube. Jared is heartily in favour of that. Somehow it’s less like — weirdly Jared’s more okay with Bryce doing it than watching Jared do it? It’s stupid.

“You wanna like—” Bryce asks, and Jared fights a case of anxious giggles as they rearrange themselves on the bed, Bryce settling between his legs. It’s a position they’ve been in plenty, but it feels a lot more revealing suddenly.

“Can you just—” Jared says, when Bryce doesn’t like, go straight for it.

“Tell me if I fuck up or something,” Bryce says, and thankfully that seems to be it for the hesitating, Bryce pressing a kiss to the inside of Jared’s thigh as he presses a finger in, slow. It feels super different with someone else’s fingers, like, the same way getting a handjob is different than jerking off, but also even more than that? Jared exhales, shaky, tries to relax, and when he does it goes from awkward to good, better than doing it himself, because he isn’t controlling it, doesn’t know what to expect, but he knows Bryce will take care of him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Bryce says.

Jared laughs a little breathlessly. “Fuck off.”

“I mean it,” Bryce says. “Does it — does it feel okay, or—”

“Feels good,” Jared says. “Like, I dunno, like, sensitive? Present? I don’t really know how to describe it if you haven’t—”

“I did,” Bryce says. “That night, after I got home.”

“Fuck, okay,” Jared says, because that’s — a thought.

“Felt, I dunno,” Bryce says. “Mostly weird. But like, it’d feel better with you, probably. Pretty much everything does.”

Jared needs him to stop talking, because Bryce’s earnest is just — it’s too much for him. He can’t cope.

“You can do another, probably?” Jared says.

“Yeah?” Bryce asks, and when he does it goes from like, good, to something more, something Jared can get lost in, Bryce’s fingers twisting in him, Bryce’s breath a shiver against his skin. Bryce leans down to press like, a chaste fucking kiss to the leaking head of Jared’s dick, and Jared gets a hand in his hair, doesn’t know if he wants to pull him away or push him down on it, dimly disappointed when Bryce pulls back, presses another kiss, just as chaste, to his hip.

“God, I want to fuck you so bad,” Bryce mumbles against his skin.

“You can,” Jared says. “Like, fuck it, I’ve got condoms, you can—”

“No,” Bryce says. “Like, take our time, you said—”

“I don’t fucking care what I said,” Jared says. “Seriously, you can totally fuck me right now, I’m so pro that.”

“I want to do it right,” Bryce says.

“If you buy candles and rose petals or some shit, I swear to—” Jared starts, then, when Bryce’s fingers press, relentless, against Jared’s prostate, “Fuck. Fuck, keep doing that.”

“Yeah?” Bryce asks, then does, always so good at taking direction and Jared digs his nails into his shoulder as good turns into like, too good. 

“Too much, stop, I can’t—” Jared says, and when Bryce wraps a hand around his dick Jared goes off after like, three strokes.

“Jesus,” Bryce says, sounding kind of stunned, and adds to the mess on Jared’s stomach while Jared stares at the ceiling, also kind of stunned, because yeah, it’s always felt good, but not like _that_.

“I can’t believe you didn’t fuck me,” Jared complains when he gets his breath back. Because like, if that was so big an improvement on his own fingers, Bryce’s dick would be like — extra improvement.

“Doubt I would have lasted like, more than a minute anyway,” Bryce mumbles, fingers tracing over Jared’s stomach, too slow to be random.

“Did you just finger paint your own fucking name in come?” Jared asks.

“No,” Bryce says, but like, guiltily.

“I can’t believe I’m in love with you, oh my god,” Jared says, and Bryce smiles at him like it’s a compliment. “Fucking dork.”

“So that was, like,” Bryce says, kind of hesitant. “That felt good?”

“No, Bryce,” Jared says. “I came out of boredom.”

“Well, I dunno,” Bryce says. “I’ve had like, crappy orgasms.”

“Crappy orgasms,” Jared repeats. Like, he gets there being a scale or whatever, some are for sure better than others, but they’re all _good_.

“Not with you!” Bryce says. “But.”

“It felt good,” Jared says. 

“You sore or—” Bryce asks.

“Bryce,” Jared says. “It was good, I’m fine, quit worrying about like — I don’t even know what you’re worrying about.”

“I just wanted it to be like, good,” Bryce mumbles.

“And it was,” Jared says. “Seriously, can you see me stoically enduring sucky sex without telling you how to make it better?”

“No?” Bryce says.

“So relax,” Jared says, because for someone who just got off, he is way too tense. “Smirk the smirk of the dude who just got his boyfriend off.”

Bryce doesn’t so much smirk as grin, which is fine. Jared will accept that. Jared has smirking covered in this relationship.

“Now like, can you get me a cloth or you wanna write your last name too?” Jared asks, and while Bryce does obediently get up to go get a wash cloth, when he returns he throws it right at Jared’s head.


End file.
